Chapter Thirty-Nine – Kendall #2
Kendall lifted her chin. She needed to cry but opted to fight.
“You’re the the king of cunts and you have the nerve to look down on me?
” she spat. “Fuck you, fuckhead. I love Mortician! He’s like a brother to me.
If you hurt him, you hurt me. I will rip your goddamn head off and dance in your fucking blood. Whatever you’ve done, fix it.”
Johnnie opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. Finally, he heaved a sigh. “Suppose I can’t?”
“Find a fucking way, Johnnie with the big fucking brain.”
“Kendall—”
He reached for her but she stumbled back, right into Bash, her shoulders against his chest, her ass against his hard cock. He gripped her forearms and she elbowed him.
Laughing, he let her go. “You’re even more stunning when you’re all riled up,” he said.
“You’re too fucking kind,” she said with biting sarcasm, ignoring Johnnie’s appalled look and turning to face Bash.
He grinned. “Why don’t you and me find a bar and toast? St. Joseph’s Day was nine days ago. We can toast that motherfucker.”
Kendall frowned. He was so fucking disrespectful.
“Fuckhead!” Johnnie yelled. “That’s my wife!”
Bash’s pale eyes twinkled, and he winked at her. “Ignore the children, Kendall. Take a walk on the wild side with a real man.”
Laughter bubbled up and exploded from her. The situation was so absurd that she couldn’t help herself. Johnnie, the miserable fuckhead, was genuinely jealous, and Bash was one hundred percent serious.
“See, motherfucker?” Johnnie snarled. “She thinks you’re a joke, too.”
When Bash stiffened, Kendall cursed her husband. She threw him a pleading look. Hopefully, he’d come to protect her and not fuck up everything.
Johnnie glared at her, but glanced away, his jaw clenched. He was about to explode.
Drawing in a shaky breath, Kendall focused on Bash again. “Are you even Catholic?”
He eyed her, probably searching to see if she was fucking with him. “I don’t have to be. If I’m a believer, I can pay homage.”
“True, but that’s not a holiday where you celebrate.” Roxy told Kendall a lot about St. Joseph’s Day since it was observed in New Orleans. “Parties are for St. Patrick’s Day.”
He relaxed slightly. “Even better, since we’re only a week late, gorgeous.”
“Gorgeous, huh?” Bash had called her that before, hadn’t he? She threw Johnnie the evil eye, but his murderous expression didn’t change. Asshole. She sniffed. “Either Johnnie has a big fucking mouth or you’re a mind reader, so which is it?”
“Which do you want it to be? Both options make me look great.”
This time when Kendall laughed, it was out of amusement. “You are a Caldwell. As insane as you are charming.”
He snickered and stood a little taller. “No one’s ever called me insane as a compliment.”
“There’s a first for everything.”
“I take it you call Johnnie insane?”
“She wouldn’t dare!” Johnnie barked.
Kendall tuned him out. “He doesn’t have that type of awareness,” she said, sighing, sincerely wishing he did. “It’s Christopher.”
“I knew it! You still want to fuck him, Kendall!”
Keeping a smile on her face, she pretended the accusation didn’t humiliate her and give her the answer about why Bash referred to her as ‘gorgeous’. Without prompting, Johnnie revealed secrets better left unsaid.
“Johnnie, please shut the fuck up,” Bash said, annoyed. “Let your woman talk to me. If you got a problem, take it up with her later. Meanwhile do the job you rode over to do and keep watch on me, so I don’t steal her from an undeserving motherfucker like you.”
“I didn’t come to protect her,” Johnnie said with triumph. “I came to end her stupidity of meeting with you.”
“You’re proud you don’t want to protect your bitch?” Bash demanded, the disdain in his voice only embarrassing her further.
If someone like Bash saw the flaw in Johnnie’s words, yet her husband didn’t, what did that say about him?
“Shut the fuck up, Johnnie,” Christopher’s voice blared from somewhere, and scared the living shit out of everyone. “Sit the fuck down, or I ain’t only fuckin’ shootin’ your goddamn fingers off, but your tongue, too. Let Kendall do her motherfuckin’ job before I motherfuckin’ gut you.”
“I should’ve known you were listening,” Johnnie yelled. “Where the fuck are you, motherfucker? Show yourself.”
“Ain’t gotta. I’m at the clubhouse. But if you don’t shut the fuck up, you gettin’ your fuckin’ ass shot off.”
“Is that a fucking threat, Christopher?”
“No, motherfucker, that’s a motherfuckin’ promise. Now, you wanna fuckin’ try me?”
Obviously not, because Johnnie snapped his mouth shut. Bash pressed his lips together, clamming up before her very eyes.
“Let’s talk in private,” she said, nodding toward the conference room. She didn’t want her brother-in-law overhearing anything he shouldn’t.
“That ain’t part of the motherfuckin’ plan, Kendall.”
“Neither was Johnnie being an asshole,” she said flatly. The excuse had dropped right into her lap. Why not use it?
“Oh, I like that, Kendall,” Johnnie raged.
“My god, motherfucker, please shut the fuck up,” she snarled, fed up.
“I’m trying to undo the fucking bullshit you so finely fucked up.
I’m trying to talk to your fucking brother and find common fucking ground, you miserable motherfucker.
I’m out of fucking patience with you, John Donovan.
Sit down and shut up or get the fuck out—”
“It’s get to fuckin’ steppin’, baby,” Outlaw supplied.
Snorting, Kendall shook her head and turned on her heels.
“Kendall, wait,” Bash ordered.
“What? What, motherfucker?” she cried, facing him. “What?”
“I’m not going in there with you until I get a drink. Preferably rum.”
“No.”
“Did you just tell me no?”
“You’re a fuckface when you’re sober. You’ll be impossible if you’re drunk.”
“This isn’t the way to get answers from me.”
“Is there any way?”
“Sitting on my lap.”
“In your fucking dreams.”
He winced. “You wound me.”
She pushed the glass door open and leaned against it, so Bash could saunter by.
“You smell delicious.”
She glared at him.
A smile slowly curved his mouth, and he nodded, then walked to the table. She allowed him to sit at the head, and she seated herself to his right, determined to get answers once and for all.